


As-Yet Untitled Night Homeless Story

by lexitehrexi



Category: None - Fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:27:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexitehrexi/pseuds/lexitehrexi





	1. Prologue

Prologue

The doors of the Showbox SoDo burst open as a mob of eclectic, highly-charged concertgoers flooded into the streets, ready either to head home, or to crank the night into higher gear in the nighttime scene downtown. Though it had poured down rain throughout Five Finger Death Punch’s two-hour set, it had luckily stopped just as the show ended. The absence of rain did little to expel the certain feeling of unshakable eeriness of South Seattle at the witching hour, though, as in with the rain had come a thick, wet fog that diminished the moon’s light and cast a heavy veil over all it touched. This mattered not to a certain young couple exiting the venue, whom were still far too preoccupied by coming down from an adrenaline high from seeing their favorite band live.   
“That was kick-ass!” said Joey, a tall, pear-shaped man with long, perpetually greasy hair, and his trademark style of a zipped indigo hoodie and basketball shorts. 

“I know, right? That solo in ‘Wrong Side of Heaven’ was so awesome!” responded Nicole, his girlfriend, and a rather slight and studious-looking young woman with surprisingly conservative leanings and the visual aesthetic of a “hip” apprenticing librarian, complete with trademark glasses. 

For the next several minutes, they detached themselves further and further from their kindred masses as they walked side-by-side back to Joey’s car, gushingly reliving the show they had just taken in to one another. They had had to park several blocks away in a somewhat shady-looking, unsecured graveled lot with nary a working streetlight, and replete with broken glass, used condoms and Dick’s cheeseburger wrappers, and some suspicious needles. This area of Seattle couldn’t be further from the glowing, postcard-type image of the majestic skyline of skyscrapers and snow-capped mountain ranges. The thick fog reduced the streets to virtually identical bands of shattered asphalt and boarded-up, Depression-era storefronts, and the couple began to unknowingly take several wrong turns on what they thought would be the way to the car. 

“Dude I think that was the best show of theirs I’ve seen, it was almost as sweet as that one time that me and you and Timmy –“ Joey was interrupted by what sounded like several garbage cans being tipped over nearby. “This place is kind of a shit-hole, isn’t it?” he said with a smirk that covered his slight feeling of unease. 

Nicole chuckled a bit, and responded “Yeah it really is. Actually, didn’t we park closer than this? I thought we were on 4th; that sign over there says Airport Way,” she said, as she raised a finger to point at a crooked and rusty street sign that had been tagged with black spray paint, “we’ve gone too far.”

“Oh damn I guess we have. Do you wanna just use the GPS on your phone? Mine died in the concert.”

“Mine too”

The two looked at each other with weak smiles to mask the slight mutual fear they shared. They didn’t want to overreact or panic, but the fact they were lost in a dangerous neighborhood, past 3am, in the cold fog, without cell phones was starting to strike them. 

“….well, this is neat,” Nicole said, trying to keep things light.

“Oh yeah. Well I mean we can just start walking down this road, scan both sides, then come up the next road and just keep going till we find the car.” 

“I guess so, sure.”

They set this weak plan into action, but the sheer darkness only made them lose hope, not gain it. Some distance down the road, a dim, blinking light revealed a shadowy figure combing through trash bins behind a closed bar. 

“Nikki—Hey, Nikki,” Joey whispered to his girlfriend whilst motioning for her to come closer to him. “Come over here. Look at that guy over there. He looks sketchy as hell.” 

Without a word, Nicole tightened up against Joey, grabbing his hand while still trying to convince herself she wasn’t scared. They both walked as far to the opposite side of the road that the figure was on as they reasonably could, hoping not to draw his attention. Anyone digging through garbage at this hour was surely not exactly pleasant, and the couple didn’t want to deal with panhandling, or worse. Just as they were passing by the building the transient was picking at, Joey tripped on a section of uneven pavement, skinning his knee and yelling “SHIT!” in the process. Nicole could only respond with a pointed “Shhh!” as they both realized what he’d done. As he got up and dusted off, dabbing his bloodied leg with his shorts, the two both gazed across the street and saw that, much to their dismay, the vagrant had clearly heard the noise and was now starting to shuffle clumsily in their direction. 

“Sorry for shushing you, are you ok?” Nicole said in an empathetic but pointed manner, obviously wanting to move past such status checks and get a move on away from the shadowy figure. 

“Yeah yeah I’m fine, let’s just get the hell out of here, and away from him,” he replied, grasping Nicole’s hand and pulling her into a brisk walk. He looked back, and they were still being followed. When the figure began to gain momentum and start nearly running after them, the façade was all but completely gone, as they both knew they were now legitimately scared. They picked up their pace into an actual jog, wanting more than anything to avoid any kind of confrontation. Another look back revealed the man rapidly bounding toward them, in a terrifyingly animalistic manner. They still couldn’t identify exact details, between the fog and their running, but there was clearly something deeply wrong about this feral man-creature. Joey and Nicole began to fully sprint, desperately trying to keep away from their rapidly-approaching pursuer. A blanket of sheer dread swept across them as they prepared to come to terms with what would easily be the most terrifying experience of their lives. It didn’t take long for the savage vagrant to catch them. The man leapt at Joey like a beast, grabbing him by his legs and lower torso with filthy, bony hands, tipped with jagged fingernails, and sending him to the ground. 

“Nikki! Run! Get out of here!” Joey yelled, just before turning himself upright and readying his fist for a punch. When he saw the nature of his attacker, though, his fist fell and his face contorted into an expression of fear, disgust, and bewilderment. The man, if he could still be called such, had blotched, purple-tinged skin, piercing yellow eyes, crooked, unnaturally sharp teeth, and a thick, wiry beard. “What the fuck are you!?” Joey screamed at the man in a voice that had been intended to come out aggressive, but was instead pierced with a crack and the unmistakable sound of fear. The man’s face and beard were stained with what appeared to be dried blood, in addition to inestimable filth, and the remnants of whatever he had consumed from the trash. There was no time for further observation, though, as the man thrust his head and hands toward Joey’s face. He began to claw at Joey’s face with reckless, inhuman abandon, literally tearing into his flesh with his roughly serrated nails. Joey managed to pull his fist together and execute a solid right hook square to the jaw of his attacker, but within seconds, it was as if he had done nothing. Joey screamed in pain and fought as best he could, but despite being much larger in size, Joey had virtually no luck in stopping the disgusting, monstrous individual from clawing and biting into him. The attacker had absolutely no limits on the use of his full body and bite strength, as if he had absolutely no instinctual concern for his own preservation. 

“Take this, you fucker!” Nicole shouted as she cracked an empty wine bottle over the side of the attacker’s head from behind. The sound of the shattering glass pierced through the ambient noises flooding in from downtown, and was followed by the thud of the man-beast falling off of Joey and onto the ground. “Oh my God, are you okay? HELP! HELP!” she pushed out through the sobbing that was rapidly flooding in to take the place of her adrenaline rush. She looked down at her boyfriend, his whole body, and especially face, utterly lacerated, and drenched in still-flowing blood. 

“I—I said…run…away…” Joey managed painfully, wincing with every syllable. 

“I could never just leave you! You could have been killed! HELP!” Nicole shouted through her weeping and stunted breaths. Despite her pleas, there was no one in sight. 

“I….don’t…want….you hurt…..” 

“Quick, we need to go! We need to get you to a hospital!” She grabbed his arm and attempted to pull him to his feet, though he was far too heavy for her to move. He strained and gasped for breath as he coughed up blood and made an excruciating attempt to stand. With Nicole’s help, he managed to get to his feet, but immediately fell back down to his knees. She reached for her phone to call for help, but once again realized the damning reality of its dead battery. Determined to save her beloved Joey, she hooked his arm around her neck and shoulder, and thrust upward to return him to his feet and keep him stable. Arm around him, and supporting virtually his full weight, she hobbled forward, trying so desperately to get literally anywhere but here. Joey could only moan in agony as he felt himself getting weaker and weaker from blood loss. Nicole’s heart sank to an unprecedented low as she heard the shuffling of gravel and glass behind her. She did absolutely all she could to propel herself and Joey forward, but her most dreadful suspicions were only confirmed when a half-scream-half-roar thundered out from behind them. Despite her most valiant efforts, nothing could be done when the evil, frenzied man creature once more leapt at them both. Joey instantly collapsed to the ground, having scarcely been able to stand at all, causing Nicole to also fall and become pinned down by him. The attacker was still drawn almost entirely to Joey, and while Nicole desperately wished she could protect him, she knew she was no match for this demon of a man. She was forced to pry herself out from underneath her boyfriend of six years as he was being virtually torn apart. Once free, she quickly stood, and was temporarily frozen in her tracks as she gazed upon the horror taking place.

“Gggggg…..G……Go……” Joey murmured almost lifelessly, knowing his fate, and not wanting her to fall victim to the same. Nicole’s heart and mind were a veritable maelstrom as they rapidly battled one another over the pragmatism of running, and the devastating emotional pain of doing so. Driven more by spontaneous instinct than anything else, she began sprinting away, tears clouding her glasses and her broken sobs echoing throughout her dead surroundings. She ran and ran, never looking back, despite her heart’s throbbing. She couldn’t bear to watch any longer as her lover was brutally ripped apart. Eventually reaching a gas station, she charged toward a dirty, crooked old payphone. Fumbling over her own fingers, she managed to key in those most merciful of digits, 9-1-1.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Ping!” The unmistakable sound of a Facebook chat notification cut through the sound of low-fi bluesy riffs radiating from the record console of Sam Coppinger’s bedroom. Sam, a tall, fair-skinned, and almost-uniquely “normal” young man who recently turned twenty years old, reluctantly put down his Xbox controller to see what surely-critical message had been received. Nine times out of ten, any correspondence received was just his friends sending single emojis or nonsensical memes to their shared group chat, so he wasn’t expecting anything significant now. It wasn’t until he saw the text of the message that he saw how wrong he was. 

Peter Wang: “did you guys hear that joey homan died?” Peter, friend of Sam since high school, often served as something of a local herald within the group. He sent another message, then another.  
Peter Wang: apparently he got like attacked by someone downtown  
Peter Wang: nicole is missing

Seldom did things get to Sam, but this did; at least, much more than usual. Everyone in the group had gone to school with Joey and Nicole for years, and all had known them fairly well. 

Sam Coppinger: “wtf really? how do you know that? did you just hear it somewhere or what?” Sam had a tendency not to believe people, especially when the news at hand was something he didn’t want to believe. He got up and turned off the turntable; it felt disrespectful to have rock music blasting whilst discussing the death of a friend. 

Peter Wang: ya it actually happened  
Peter Wang: super spooky  
Peter Wang: it was on the news and whatnot 

After doing a search to confirm this terrible news, Sam stared blankly into the screen for over a full minute. During that time, other friends Stephen “Fitz” Fitzgerald and Alexis Lysene also tuned into the conversation to express their disbelief and sorrow. The fact they said anything at all was a signal to the caliber of the situation, considering they both were shy and seldom spoke out about anything.

Sam Coppinger: what do you mean he was attacked? was it a mugger or something? did he get away? and nicole is missing? 

Alexis Lysene: Yeah wtf where is she? Is she like ok?

Peter Wang: idk the article just said he was killed by an attacker, don’t know who and doesn’t really give any details

Peter Wang: they don’t know where she is

Sam Coppinger: wtf how could they not know any more than that? why can’t the police actually do their job and get to the bottom of this? it doesn’t sound like they even care that this happened

Sam Coppinger: maybe if they were focused on actually solving and preventing crimes instead of just predatorily handing out tickets, they might be able to find out wtf happened and where nicole is   
Sam had historically had a strange way of going about sadness, and emotion in general. Depending on the severity of the event, he would typically either inappropriately brush it aside, or simply become angry at why it would have happened, as if doing so would actually solve anything. Given the close interpersonal proximity to Joey and Nicole, this situation was generating the latter type of response. 

Peter Wang: idk man I feel like I could figure it out 

Sam Coppinger: jesus christ stfu this isn’t some case for ‘detective wang,’ we actually knew joey, this is real

Throughout middle- and high-school, Peter had been quite an eccentric, excitable, high-energy little boy, often getting entangled in phases or identities he had picked up from movies. One such of these phases, and one of few which had managed to survive through the disillusioning post-high-school years, was a fascination with solving (or attempting to solve) mysteries. While this trait was typically looked upon by Sam as simply immature, Peter’s thought to use Joey’s death as an opportunity to play investigator struck him as disrespectful and selfish. Still, the idea did produce some spark. Sam, a stalwart anti-government Libertarian, had great distrust in any degree of public service, and the apparent total lack of concern by the Seattle authorities made him legitimately wonder if an everyday stooge like Peter could actually accomplish more. 

Peter Wang: wow ok don’t have to be a dick about it 

Peter Wang: ik it’s real

Peter Wang: that’s why I want to help 

Sam Coppinger: how could you help? literally your only experience is the one criminal justice class you failed and watching sherlock 

Peter Wang: i notice things a lot

Peter Wang: we should like go downtown and look around 

Sam Coppinger: wtf do you expect to find? just like a note that says “hi I’m joe schmoe and I killed joey and took Nicole?” 

Peter Wang: i mean i guess

Peter Wang: let’s just do it man I’m sure everyone would be down to go to seattle anyway, we can go to uwajimaya and stuff and just swing by there

Thor Peterson: did someone say uwajimaya? im down, I don’t work all week

Thor, another member of the group, suddenly sprang into life. This is the way he did things, constantly maintaining a notable detachment until a random moment. Maybe it was to preserve some sense of increased cultural value due to low supply, maybe it was to come off as a cool character by never appearing to care very much. Either way, mention of one of his favorite places, and a Seattle icon, the Asian superstore Uwajimaya, was more than enough to draw his attention. Between his original rumination and this suggestion to turn the trip into a whole day out, Sam was beginning to warm up to the idea. 

Stephen Fitzgerald: Fitz is down

Sam Coppinger: christ maybe, but if we did go, we’d have to take the bus, cause I’m not driving down there and I know no one else is either

Sam Coppinger: and the bus is a disgusting unreliable vehicle of socialism 

Alexis Lysene: I’m down 

Peter Wang: see everyone wants to go 

Sam Coppinger: really alexis? I thought you didn’t like it downtown 

Alexis Lysene: I don’t really, but spending the day with my boys sounds fun 

Sam smiled sheepishly. He was weak to girls in general, but something about Alexis specifically made his contrarian veneer peel away time after time.

Sam Coppinger: ok I guess we can go, I’ll message zatch and see when he can come too 

Zach “Zatch” Lindquist was the final member of the six-person group, and the furthest removed from its center, despite being a founding member. He and Sam had been best friends since middle school, and their friendship acted as the foundation for all others to join in. He had a very complicated and emotionally stressful life, with a deceased father and estranged, drug-addicted mother. Such turbulence is likely what led him to become a workaholic, as to avoid having too much time to think about things, but such a schedule also caused him to seldom speak or spend time with his friends. When he did see them, he tended to cover his emotional depth with a more upbeat mask of recklessly bouncy unpredictability, which tended to draw the secret ire of some of the group. Regardless, Sam wanted him to be a part of this activity. Though Zach acted uncontrollable and borderline inappropriate most of the time, he could occasionally be among the most logical and insightful in the group. The “squad,” as they liked to call themselves, made plans to venture down to South Seattle, and also took the opportunity to fill Thor and Zach as to what had happened, and the initial reason for their trip. Thor’s response was a predictably uninterested acknowledgement with a few cued, unsubstantiated words of sentiment, and while Zach’s was similar at face value, he and Sam both knew that he had personally experienced the death of someone close, and was therefore, at heart, more legitimately attuned and sympathetic toward the situation.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sam and the rest of the group shuffled onto the Sound Transit bus clumsily, none having any substantial experience using public transit outside of the Mountlake Terrace area. The interior of the bus was as traditional(ly negative) as one would expect it to be, with strange, outdated upholstery whose initial velvety moquette surface had been worn smooth by the backsides of millions of passengers, as well as heavily stained and peeling floors, and the faint-yet-distinct smell of urine. All six friends managed to find seats next to one another near the back of the bus. 

“Mmmm, public transportation. This still worth it, Peter?” Sam snarkily asked. Though he had, by now, fully accepted the journey they were about to depart on, he still wished to appear inconvenienced. 

“Hmm? Oh yea sure,” Peter half-heartedly replied. 

“Ayy, it’s not that bad! That guy over there seems to be enjoying himself, right?” Thor said, while pointing toward a homeless-looking man sprawled out asleep on the back bench of the bus. He wore a heavy brown coat, the hood of which almost served to cover his long, matted brown-gray hair. Tucked in the folds of the jacket was something in a brown paper bag, the contents of which surely aided the vagrant in contributing to the foul odor. His face was hidden entirely by a combination of shadows, fabric, and hair, and he appeared to be more passed-out than just asleep, his sinewy limbs strewn over himself and dangling motionless off of the seat. 

“Thor, I would think you’d want to get your license so you wouldn’t have to take the bus to school all the time. I couldn’t stand riding in this inefficient, taxpayer-funded cesspool any more than a few times a year” Sam said, while Fitz and Zack giggled at what Thor had said. 

“I really don’t mind it, man, at least the ones in our area. And I don’t go to school anymore, didn’t I tell you guys that?” 

“What? Why?” Alexis asked. She wanted all of her friends to be successful and was somewhat disappointed at this news. 

“Ehh, it was just kind of a waste of time, you know? I-” Thor started, but was cut off by Sam.

“Considering it was art school, yes-“ Sam interjected.

“Sam, that’s mean. Go on, Thor” Alexis said, steering things back on track. 

“Yeah Sam why don’t you fuck off, ay?” Thor said somewhat jokingly. “Anyway, yeah, it just wasn’t really worth the time or money and I wasn’t doing too great anyway. I don’t regret it.”

“Speaking of ‘not worth the money’, good Christ this bus was expensive. Do we have to pay the way back too? And when is the last bus back, just so we know?” Sam asked anyone who could answer.

“Last bus back is 8:15, I gotchu” Peter replied.

“Since when the fuck do you know anything, Peter?” Zack pointed out in his trademark casually-aggressive style, though he meant no real harm. 

“I looked it up before we left. I told you, I gotchu,” Peter said, now putting earbuds in and facing away from the rest of the group. 

“Sam, why do you hate the bus so much?” asked Fitz, wanting to extend the conversation. 

“Aside from how it’s dirty, smelly, gross, hard to use, always late, and doesn’t go where or when you want?” Sam responded as Zack, Alexis and Fitz snickered. “Because they use taxes to fund this whole thing, but they’re so inefficient that they still have to charge like a hundred dollars per person to ride it. And even after that, it has all the problems I just said. Literally like whenever the government gets involved in something, it makes it worse, especially around here. Big government just makes everything less efficient and more corrupt; and that’s when it’s not outright killing people or throwing them in jail.”

“Tell us how you really feel,” Alexis said sarcastically. Though she was inclined to disagree, something about Sam, and the way he described things, made her more apt to accept his opinions. 

“Seems fair,” Fitz replied. 

The conversation petered out into a relative silence that characterized the rest of the ride. Gradually, the crowded vehicle made its way through the cracked, litter-infested streets of Seattle. Still being just the cusp of spring, the weather was a trademark Seattle gray that blocked out much of the sun’s light, which, coupled with the nippy temperature, painted quite a gloomy image. The bus eventually screeched to a halt at the International District station, where the group got off. 

“Alright, off to Uwajimaya then,” Sam declared, hoping Peter would forget his original reason for suggesting this trip. 

“Dude I want to check out the place where Joey died and see if there are any clues there for what happened” Peter shot out, quickly killing Sam’s hope.

“Ehh let’s just go to Uwajimaya first, Peter, I need some of that delicious orange chicken” Thor reasoned, likely knowing he would be the most effective in winning Peter over. The two of them were among the few who spent time with one another outside of whole-group activities, and seemed to share a bond over their aloof personalities. 

“Mmm, sounds yummy,” Fitz chimed in, never being one to shy away from a meal. 

Sam began walking in the direction of the store, without bothering to confirm the plan was okay with Peter, knowing that the rest of the group would follow him. They walked leisurely, Sam and Zack making up the front of the group, and Alexis and Fitz at the rear. 

“My dad used to work here a while ago,” Fitz said to whoever was listening, while pointing at a nondescript building currently occupied by a shipping company of some sort. 

“That’s weird that your parents still work,” Sam responded, on account of how his father had managed to retire a few years prior, and his mother hadn’t worked since he was born. He didn’t really feel that parents still working was weird, he just found satisfaction and pride in reminding people that his dad was able to retire early whenever he got the chance. 

“Pretty much everyone’s parents work still, I think,” Alexis said, following up with a question: “What do your parents do, Thor?” 

“Well my mom works on the ferries, but I’m not really sure what my dad does. He’s kinda jumped around jobs a lot since the divorce, I’m not sure what he’s doing right now. I don’t really see him all that often, but last time I did I think he said something about working for the city? Not sure.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alexis quickly followed up with, not having wanted to bring up anything that might have made him uncomfortable. Saying anything to upset anyone was outside her relentlessly genial disposition. 

“Oh no, it’s fine. The only thing that bothers me about it is how he-“ Thor began before being cut off by Zack.

“Shut the fuck up Thor, no one cares,” he interjected, still with his characteristic manner, albeit this time with a trace more legitimacy. Talking about parents made him uncomfortable. Alexis wanted to tell Thor to continue anyway, but she, as well as Fitz, had something of a secret fear of Zack, due to his unpredictability and apparent verbal hostility. 

Everyone simply continued walking, until they passed an especially aggressive panhandler sitting in the trashed doorway of a dilapidated New-Deal-era building. While he started out begging in a quiet and typical manner, he soon became louder and more aggravated after receiving no response. 

“Huh- Hey man, you got any money?” he said in a very low, heavily-slurred manner of speech, dropping his cardboard sign and stumbling forward, grabbing Zack’s arm and tugging on it. 

Zack turned and pushed the beggar back by his shoulders. “Get the fuck off of me! Go get a fucking job if you want money, dude!” he shouted at the intoxicated bum. Trying to avoid confrontation, Fitz and Peter quickly walked further down the block. Alexis was clearly shocked and scared by the actions of both Zack and the man, and subconsciously positioned herself behind Sam to hide from the situation. 

“Zack come on, let’s just get out of here” Sam bargained, pulling Zack away and attempting to de-escalate the tension, though he ultimately agreed with Zack and his actions. 

“Fuck you!” the homeless man roared as the group briskly walked away. Looking back, Fitz noticed fully the sickly appearance of the man, his skin and eyes lightly discolored, and several of his teeth jagged or missing entirely. 

“Alright, now that the crazy hobo attack is over, who wants to get some mediocre chicken and make fun of weebs” Sam quipped, trying to get everyone’s minds off of what had just happened with some humor. 

With that, the group continued on with their original goal, and finally reached the Asian grocer. Though they enjoyed the same cross-cultural experience as they had on previous visits, none of them could avoid thinking about how Zack had nearly gotten in a fist fight with a homeless man. In fact, thinking back to when they were on the bus, they had seen a great deal of homeless folk encamped around Seattle, especially here in the International District. The city is known to have a homeless problem, but it seemed to them that there were more vagrants and panhandlers than ever before. 

Upon exiting the store, everyone noticed that the sun was already almost gone, but Peter once again dashed Sam’s hopes of avoiding the initial catalyst for the trip. 

“Okie, time to go to where Joey died” he said merrily, much to Sam’s irritation. 

“Christ, fine,” Sam spat while pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the time, “but we’re not going on some like grand journey across Seattle when you think you find something. It’s already almost 5, and we need to make sure to get back to the bus station by no later than 8 if we’re gonna catch that last bus” 

“It’s fine, I told you, I gotchu,” Peter said while setting off south, “Let’s go guys!”


End file.
